


Made-Up Lovesong

by notallballs (notallbees)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, High School, Language Barrier, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 20:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: "I have a surprise for Tobio," said Tobio's mother. "Remember I volunteered us to be a host family for exchange students?"Tobio blinked at her."Well, I got a call from the school a couple of weeks ago, and we have a student joining us at the weekend, in time for the new school year.""What?"Growing up in the UK, Tobio has never been interested in his Japanese roots. That's not going to change just because his mother forces him to play host to a Japanese student for a few months.But Hinata is nothing like Tobio expects him to be, and although they can't speak each other's language, a common love of volleyball helps them begin to bridge the gap.





	Made-Up Lovesong

**Author's Note:**

> Happy kagehina day! :>
> 
>  
> 
> A quick note about the language. Hinata and Kageyama speak very little of each other's language, so in this chapter when characters speak in Japanese, it's written upside down sᴉɥʇ ǝʞᴉl.

It was nearing the end of volleyball practice, one of their last summer sessions before the new school year began. Their PE teacher and part time volleyball coach, Mister Urquhart, had gathered them all together before they began their cooldown, to brief them about the tournament that was coming up, and a practice match that had been scheduled for the following week. 

"Before you all go," he said, coming to the end of his speech, "I've been informed that we'll have a new player joining us when term starts in two weeks. It's going to be scary for him joining a new team, let alone a new school, so I expect you all to show some team spirit, alright lads?" He glanced around at them. "Just don't be pricks, okay?"

A chorus of laughter followed his words, but Tobio just watched Mister Urquhart with a frown. He didn't want a new team member, and he especially didn't want some weird foreign student coming around and changing things or upsetting their rhythm. Eventually, they were dismissed, and Tobio watched out of the corner of his eye as his teammates began rounding up stray volleyballs and loosening the net. 

"Leave it up," Tobio snapped, tossing the ball between his hands. His serve had been off all week, and the only thing that was going to solve it was hours spent practicing. And after that, he needed to work on his toss, which had suffered from six weeks of sporadic practice over the summer holidays 

Ifram, one of the team's wing spikers, scowled at him. "Are you deaf? Urquhart said to put everything away."

"I'll do it later," Tobio insisted. He squeezed the ball tightly between his hands. Everyone was still milling about on the court, getting in the way. "Are you finished yet or what?" he shouted at a couple of the year ten boys who were fooling around on the other side of the net. They looked over, one wide-eyed and the other scowling. "Morons," Tobio huffed, squeezing the ball again tightly. Then, raising his voice again, "Move out of the way, unless you want to work on your shitty receive." 

"Kageyama." It was Mister Urquhart. He strode across the gym, his whistle bouncing against his chest, and stopped in front of Tobio, putting his hands on his hips. That always meant trouble. "That's enough for today." 

Tobio gritted his teeth. "I have to practice. We have the tournament—" 

"I'm well aware of that," Mister Urquhart said sharply. "As are all your teammates." 

The teacher's voice had a tendency to carry, and sure enough, when Tobio looked round he noticed that everybody had stopped what they were doing, and everyone was staring at him. He shifted on the spot, his frown deepening. "It's not fast enough yet," Tobio said stubbornly. 

"What's not fast enough?"

A feeling like a growl was lodged in Tobio's chest. He knew better than to shout at a teacher, but he didn't know how else to explain what he meant. They had narrowly missed out on victory in their last match, and that was before they lost the previous year thirteens, and their best wing spiker. On top of that, no matter what Tobio tried, his teammates just couldn't connect with him. _Wouldn't_ connect with him. 

Tobio opened his mouth, but as much as he scraped around, he just didn't have the words to shape out his feelings. "I…"

"There are six people on a volleyball team, Kageyama," Mister Urquhart said, gesturing round at the rest of the team. Tobio glanced out from under his fringe. His teammates all seemed to be frozen like statues, just watching. Their expressions were mean and gleeful. "Are you saying /everyone/ needs extra practice?"

Tobio gritted his teeth. "Yes."

A few of the boys laughed. Ifram and Jacob scoffed at him. Tobio heard more than one swear word uttered in his direction. 

"Alright, that's enough. The rest of you, finish up and go home," Mister Urquhart said. His sharp eyes drilled into Tobio. "Kageyama, a word."

Mister Urquhart was a beefy man with broad shoulders and chest, and heavy thighs. He always wore shorts and a polo shirt, even in winter, and his arms and legs were very hairy. There was a rumour that he and the girls' PE teacher, Miss Gelthin, had once been caught having sex in the changing rooms. Tobio didn't believe it. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to have sex in the changing rooms, let alone have sex with Mister Urquhart. 

Tobio followed him into the PE office at the entrance to the sports hall, then Mister Urquhart sat down at the cluttered desk before turning to look up at Tobio. 

"I just wanted to practice," Tobio blurted out. "I was just—"

Mister Urquhart held up his hands to stop him. "Take it easy, Kageyama." He dropped his hands to his lap with a sigh. "I know how passionate you are about the game. It's part of what makes you such a good setter."

Tobio's throat was full of sand. Even he could hear the _but_ at the end of that sentence. 

Mister Urquhart took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through the bristle of his close-cropped hair. "Kageyama, I want you to know that I almost benched you during our last match."

Shock punched Tobio in the chest. He opened his mouth and closed it again, and his fingers clenched at his sides. He wished that he'd kept hold of the volleyball; the weight of it between his hands was good, it helped him think.

"I already said it, you're a good player," Mister Urquhart went on, watching him intently. "Great in fact, and you could be phenomenal if it weren't for your team ethic letting you down."

Tobio bit the tip of his tongue. His fingers clenched more tightly, nails digging into his palms. "What does that mean?" he asked in a strange, grating version of his normal voice.

Mister Urquhart shook his head. "Kageyama, how many people on a volleyball court?"

"Six," Tobio answered immediately.

"Exactly. And how many of those people do you think should be playing as individuals?"

Tobio said nothing. His head was starting to ache, a dull pressure at the back of his skull.

At his silence, Mister Urquhart sighed. "I know you're not stupid, Kageyama. You're good at breaking down plays and you've got incredible game sense. I just...need you to learn to apply those skills to working with the rest of your team."

"Yes," Tobio said, when he realised his coach was watching him expectantly. 

"One exceptional player is no use to me if he can't connect with the other players."

Indignation made Tobio's ears burn. "They're the ones that don't connect with me!"

Mister Urquhart frowned. "That's not how it works, Kageyama."

"But—but I'm the setter."

"What do you think that means?"

Tobio blinked, and wetted his bottom lip with his tongue. "The setter...he's the control tower. He decides the play. He sets the pace."

But Mister Urquhart was shaking his head. "I know that's how it feels, but if that's your attitude, I can't in good conscience put you in the tournament. Not until you've learned how to work with your teammates."

"...What?"

"I'm taking you off the roster, Kageyama," Mister Urquhart said, getting to his feet. "Maybe we can do some intensive work with the B team, or perhaps the younger boys—"

"You're benching me?" Tobio asked, stricken. He felt sick. A yawning chasm in his chest had been ripped wide. "And you want me to play with the little kids?"

Mister Urquhart sighed, his heavy eyebrows drawing in close. "They're only a couple of years younger than you, Kageyama. And besides, a good setter should be able to synch with any spiker."

If you can prove to me that you can work with your team, whoever they are, then we can look at introducing you back into the rotation."

Tobio's headache was getting worse, pressing on the back of his eyes. "If?" he asked quietly.

"I know you can do it," Mister Urquhart said, reaching out to put a hand on Tobio's shoulder. He steered him toward the door, then patted his arm as he shoveled him out into the hallway. "Go home, and don't overwork yourself. Rest is just as important as hard work."

"Yeah," Tobio muttered, unconvinced. 

The changing rooms were only a few steps away, but Tobio dragged his feet, not wanting to run into any of his teammates. His heart sank when he stepped inside and heard the low murmur of voices, followed by a bellow of laughter. Walking over to where he'd left his clothes and backpack, Tobio let out a small sigh of relief to find that they were safe and hadn't been tampered with. Too many times over the past few years he'd come back from extra practice to find that his clothes had been dumped in the showers, or that his classmates had hidden his shoes or his backpack. He didn't bring his phone to school anymore, not since his old one had been stolen back in year ten. Nobody texted him anyway.

Tobio began to change, pulling off his sweaty t-shirt and his shorts. In the brief few seconds that he stood there in his underwear, more laughter echoed around the changing room, and then he heard a voice behind him.

"Well well well, if it isn't the king himself." 

Tobio's shoulders seized up, his hands coming up protectively across his chest. "What do you want, Daniel?"

"Oh, _Daniel_ ," the newcomer mimicked, stepping into Tobio's line of sight. Daniel Burnett was the team's main middle blocker, and also its vice captain. He was a good blocker, but sloppy, and prone to gloating. He walked closer, his lip curled into a sneer and his pale blue eyes full of malice. Tobio's gut twinged in response, and his fingertips began to tingle. He didn't hit, anymore, but Daniel Burnett often made him want to. "Naughty _Daniel_ ," Daniel continued, making a stupid face at him. Behind him, his stupid friends laughed. "Did I get in your way, _your majesty_?" he drawled. "What did Urquhart want anyway? Are you abdicating your throne? Or do we need to get a guillotine?" 

Tobio clenched his jaw. He needed to solve this problem with the team before the practice match next week, otherwise there'd be no way to hide the fact that Mister Urquhart had pulled him from the rotation. He'd never live it down if the others found out. 

"Piss off. It's nothing to do with you," Tobio growled, looking away from him. He reached for his t-shirt, but just as he picked it up, a hand shoved him from behind and he stumbled forward into the wall. His head knocked against the brick, and he sat down hard on the bench, dazed, while cruel laughter echoed around him. 

"Oh, I'm _sorry_ , your highness—"

"Oi!" another voice called out. 

Tobio put a hand to his head, wincing. It felt tender under his fingertips, but when he pulled his hand away he couldn't see any blood. 

"Jafri," Daniel called out, turning to face the newcomer. "Jaffa cake, big Jaff—"

"Leave it out, Burnett," Ifram snapped, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him away from Tobio. "We're not kids anymore, you don't need to push him around."

Daniel laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "My apologies to the Sultan and the Mikado." He clasped his hands together as though in prayer. "Just a bit of friendly bants between teammates."

"We're not friends," Tobio muttered, touching his bottom lip. He had bitten it when he fell, and there was blood on his tongue. 

"Yeah, no shit," Daniel sneered. 

"Back off, Burnett," Ifram said, stepping in between him and Tobio. "Won't your mummy be wondering where you are?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Jafri. Tell him to cut it out with those reckless tosses at the practice match, yeah? There's no point us jumping if he's just gonna toss right past us."

Tobio gritted his teeth. His eyes were hot, burning fiercely, and his vision blurred as he watched Daniel and the others turn and leave. 

Ifram stayed, watching until the door banged shut behind them, then he glanced over his shoulder at Tobio. "You okay?"

"Fine," Tobio muttered, reaching up to wipe his face with his sleeve. "They're morons."

"Yeah," Ifram said. "They're right though. You're supposed to be our setter."

Tobio stood up, a growl in his throat. "I _am_ your setter."

Ifram rolled his eyes. "Right, then why can none of us hit your tosses?"

"You need to move faster," Tobio snapped. "Jump higher. There's no way we can win if—"

"I'm not listening to this," Ifram groaned, rolling his eyes. He started to walk away, calling out over his shoulder as he went, "I'm not hitting your sets any more, Kageyama. Not until you learn to set like a normal human being."

He left, and the door banged shut again like the end of a sentence. Tobio's head was pounding, and he still held his t-shirt clenched tightly in both hands, gripping it so tightly that his fingers ached.

 

—

 

Tobio was lying on his bed later that evening, tossing his volleyball into the air and catching it again, when the sound of keys in the front door echoed up the stairs. 

"Tobio!" his mother called. "Are you home?" 

With a sigh, Tobio let the ball drop one more time and caught it against his chest. "Yeah!" he shouted back. 

"Come on down, I brought dinner!" 

Sighing again, Tobio rolled off his bed and stalked downstairs. His mother was bustling in the kitchen, and Tobio sank into a chair and rested his head on his arms. 

"Hello, sweetheart," she said after a moment, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Your hair's getting long again, want to cut it this weekend?" 

Tobio made a non-committal sound. 

"I hope you're hungry," she went on, turning back to dig out plates and bowls. "I got takeaway from that rice place." 

Tobio grimaced. "You always make us eat that stuff." 

"What stuff?" 

"Asian stuff," he muttered. "I'm bored of it." 

Tobio's mother tutted at him. "Are you bored of my cooking now too?" 

"Ugh, Mum…"

"Because I can let you starve if you want that, if you don't appreciate me feeding you for seventeen years." 

Tobio scowled at the table. "I didn't say that." 

"And while we talk about that," she said, brushing past him to lay the food on the table, "it's time for you to take interest in your heritage." 

"Hmm."

Tobio's mother rapped him on the shoulder with a wooden spatula. 

"Ow—!" Tobio yelped, sitting up straight. 

"I mean it! You think I'm going to be around forever? And your grandparents?" 

Tobio grimaced. "What's your point?" 

His mother sat down at the other side of the table, and pointed at the bowl of rice she'd placed in front of him. "Eat," she said, pointing the food. 

"I'm not hungry," Tobio muttered, but before he'd even finished speaking, his stomach gave a treacherous growl. 

"Eat," she said. "Now. Then we talk." 

Tobio lifted his head. "Talk?" he asked, his tone fearful. Maybe Mister Urquhart had already called his parents to tell them that he'd been dropped from the team. 

She just shook her head. "Eat."

Reluctantly, Tobio did as he was told. The food was good, although he didn't admit that out loud.

Halfway through dinner Tobio's father arrived home, greeting his wife with a kiss and Tobio with a grin. "This looks good," he said, sitting down and reaching for a bowl. "What's the occasion?" 

"I have a surprise for Tobio," said Tobio's mother. "Remember I volunteered us to be a host family for exchange students?"

Tobio blinked at her.

"Well, I got a call from the school a couple of weeks ago, and we have a student joining us at the weekend, in time for the new school year."

" _What_?" Tobio hissed. 

She smiled. "He's flying over on Saturday, so I'll need your help to get the spare room ready." 

Tobio slammed his chopsticks down on the table. He suddenly didn't feel at all hungry, and the food he'd eaten was heavy in his chest. He pushed back from the table, leaving his food half eaten. 

"Tobio?" 

"Did you even think about asking _me_ if I wanted some stranger living here?" 

"Hey now," Tobio's father said, frowning. "Your mother thinks this is a good idea, and I agree with her." 

Tobio's hands were shaking. He shoved them in his lap to hide it. "So it's all just decided?"

"It's decided," his mother said sharply. "No argument, Tobio." 

Clenching his jaw, Tobio got up from the table. His mother called after him, but Tobio ran from the room, then pounded up the stairs to his bedroom. Slamming the door behind him, Tobio threw himself down on his bed face first. His thoughts were racing, a furious march of things he wanted to shout at his parents, and things he wished he'd said at the time. He lifted his arm and punched his fist into the mattress several times, until the lump in the back of his throat began to melt. He lay there for a long time, breathing in the comforting clean laundry scent of his duvet, before finally he rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. The shadows were lengthening as the sun rolled down the sky.

Eventually, his father's footsteps creaked up the stairs, and then there was a knock on Tobio's bedroom door.

"Tobio? Can I come in?"

Tobio grunted. 

The door cracked open a few inches. "Tobio? Not asleep are you?"

Reluctantly, Tobio sat up. "I don't want an exchange student to come here," he said in a sullen tone.

His dad sighed and stepped inside, moving over to sit beside him on the bed. "Aren't you even a little bit excited?" he asked, nudging Tobio gently with his arm. "You're going to be a student host."

“I don't want to be a student host,” Tobio muttered, even though he knew that he'd already lost.

"Your mum's really excited about it. He's coming all the way from Japan."

Tobio groaned loudly. "This again. I don't even know any Japanese."

"Maybe this would be a good chance to learn some."

"But—"

"Tobio," his father sighed. He turned to face Tobio, and rather than angry, he just looked tired. A miserable feeling crawled around in Tobio's gut. "This is really important to your mother," his father said quietly. "I know it doesn't seem important to you, but sometimes you have to make compromises for the people you love. You grew up here and that’s all you know, I get it. But I also think that one day you’ll look back, and you’ll wish you’d gotten the chance to learn a little more about your heritage.”

 _Don’t bet on it_ , Tobio thought, but he kept his mouth shut. The last thing he wants to do right now is make her even more upset. 

“Besides, maybe it would be good for you to have someone around,” his dad went on, and Tobio was afraid for a moment that he was going to comment on Tobio's lack of friends once again. “You know, someone to talk to when we're both at work.”

Tobio shrugged. “I like being on my own.”

His dad grinned at him. “I know that, but the world doesn’t work that way. You’re going to have to spend plenty of time talking to people and making new friends when you start at uni next year, so you might as well get some practice in now.”

Tobio made a face. He didn't want to think about uni, or how the hell he was going to get through his A-levels, and he definitely didn't want to think about sharing his house with some boring Japanese kid who probably only cared about watching anime or doing quadratic equations, or whatever it was they did. Tobio didn't care. He just wanted to play volleyball.

“How long’s it for?” he muttered. 

"Well, their school year starts in April, but it’s the summer holidays for them too right now, so he'll start the new school year with you in September.”

Tobio did not miss the fact that his dad didn't mention an end date, and he narrowed his eyes. “And?”

“And then he’ll leave in March to graduate from his high school back home?”

Tobio’s stomach plummeted. “Six months?” he said loudly.

“Seven,” his dad corrected, with an apologetic smile.

“Ugh,” Tobio groaned, rolling his eyes skyward. He flopped back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling again. He'd hoped for a week, two at most. "I'm not babysitting him, I have practice."

"I'm sure it'll work out," his dad said, reaching over to pat his knee. "Don't sulk, Tobio."

Tobio grimaced. "I'm not sulking," he muttered.

"Good." His dad got up, groaning faintly as he straightened up. "And be nice to your mother. She's really looking forward to this."

 _If she's nice to me_ , Tobio thought, but kept silent. When his dad looked at him, Tobio just nodded.

"Good boy," his dad said, smiling at him. "And you never know, you two might have something in common."

"Yeah, right," Tobio muttered.

 

—

 

The next few days passed far too quickly. Tobio and his mother were both quick-tempered and prone to sulking, but while Tobio wanted to avoid her and spend as much time as possible practicing his serve and his pinpoint toss out in the garden, she was determined to drag him into preparations for their guest. 

"Why do we need so much food?" Kageyama complained, trudging along behind the shopping trolley in Sainsbury's while his mother went from one aisle to the next, showing no sign of finishing any time soon. 

"I want Hinata to feel welcome," she said, grabbing his arm and directing him to grab something from a high shelf. "Tobio, fetch that for me. No, no, the dark one—yes." 

"Maybe he won't like it here," Tobio said, moving over to push the trolley again. "Maybe he'll want to go home."

His mother tutted at him. "Don't be rude, Tobio. I want you to be nice to him. It's very scary leaving your home."

Tobio snorted. "Well he's the one that decided to leave."

"Tobio!" His mother reached up and gave him a gentle smack around the side of the head, but she unknowingly caught the bruise that Daniel had given him several days earlier, and he winced and flinched away from her. "What's the matter with you?" she asked, sighing. 

"Nothing," Tobio mumbled. 

"Are you looking forward to your game next week?" she asked, changing tack.

Tobio shrugged. "I guess." He tried not to think about how it was going to feel, sitting on the bench while he watched all his teammates play without him. Their back up setter Matthew wasn't a bad player, but he wasn't very dedicated, and he skipped practice at least once a week. 

"Remind me to show you the email from Hinata," she said, reaching past him to grab something from a shelf. "This morning he emailed us."

"That's okay."

"You should read it. He included you as well, you know."

"Yeah, yeah."

When they had finished packing their shopping bags in the car, Tobio's mother pulled out her phone and passed it over to him. "Here," she said. "Read the email."

_Hello! My name is Hinata Shouyou! I have a mother and father and youngest sister he name is Natsu. What kind of nice fast food do you like to eat Kageyama-kun??? I like McDonalds!! Natsu always takes my toy from happy meal. I do not mind because she's a baby. I like to run. Write a reply to me Kageyama-kun. Looking forward to meet you!!!_

Tobio wrinkled his nose. "He sounds stupid."

"Tobio!" his mother gasped. "Write a nice reply now."

"Fine," Tobio mumbled, thumb already moving across the screen.

 _I don't eat McDonalds,_ he wrote back. _I like running too, it's good training for_

"Tobio! Write in Japanese!" 

"Mum," Tobio growled, yanking the phone out of her line of sight. "Watch the road!"

 

—

On the day that they were due to collect Hinata from the airport, Tobio's mother woke him up at six, half an hour before his alarm would have woken him to go for his usual morning run. 

“Up up up!” she said, flapping the corner of his duvet cover to chivvy him along. “I want this room spotless by nine!”

Tobio groaned and shoved his head under his pillow. "Mum," he groaned. " _Why_?"

"Up!" 

She left, leaving his door wide open, and then started hoovering the landing outside his bedroom. With another, heartfelt groan, Tobio dragged himself out of bed and slunk over to the bathroom. 

After an hour of tidying, he pulled on his running tights and a t-shirt and went out for his usual run, eager to escape the frenzy of his mother's cleaning. It was, he realised, his last hour of peace and solitude before their guest arrived, and he pushed himself harder than usual, running an extra mile to try and take his mind off his impending doom. 

After his run, he showered and ate breakfast, before his mother forced him to scrub the bathroom. 

"Didn't you clean this yesterday?" he complained, deliberately doing a half-hearted job.

"Don't argue with me, Tobio!"

Tobio glowered after her. Normally he would have comforted himself with the knowledge that he had volleyball practice in an hour, and therefore wouldn't have to trek all the way to the airport with his parents, but the thought of going to volleyball practice that day made his stomach churn. On the other hand, the thought of missing it was worse, so when he was done with the bathroom, he changed into his volleyball gear and shoved his keys in his backpack.

"Mum! I'm off to practice!"

"Come straight back after!" she shouted. "I want you home and clean by the time we get back with Hinata!" 

"Yeah, Mum," Tobio sighed. 

It was a short walk to school, although it felt longer. He was early, so only a few others had shown up when he arrived and began to warm up. When he was halfway through his stretches, Mister Urquhart walked into the gym, and stopped when he spotted Tobio. 

"Kageyama," he said, walking over. "Practice with the year tens today."

Tobio nodded. "Yes, Sir." 

"And try not to yell at them," Mister Urquhart said, giving him a severe look.

"Tch," Tobio tutted. _I wouldn't have to yell at them if they just did it right_ , he thought, but at the look on Mister Urquhart's face, he opted to keep it to himself. 

There were five year tens on the team, only one of whom already played on the B team. Tobio had watched them play when they were on the lower school team; their setter wasn't bad, and the libero was promising, but the rest were weak receivers, not good at moving their feet. 

"Alright!" he said, stalking over to them. 

They all jumped, their laughter falling silent. 

"T-Tobio," said one, glancing at the others. "Sorry, we'll start warming up." 

Tobio frowned. "Be quick about it. We're going to play three on three. I have to see how much work you all need."

While they warmed up, he divided the six of them into two teams and set up another net at the far end of the sports hall. Walking back, he overheard them whispering amongst themselves.

_"Josh, swap with me."_

_"No chance, I'm not playing with the King!"_

_"Tommo, switch with me—"_

_"Shut up! He'll hear you…"_

Tobio scowled. "Hurry up," he snapped, before turning and stalking back to the court. He was used to people talking about him when they thought he was out of earshot, or even when he wasn't. He didn't care. 

The game started slowly. The other boys were shaky and nervous, and kept making foolish mistakes, but Tobio bit his tongue. Mister Urquhart had asked him not to shout at them, and he fumed silently instead. At the other side of the sports hall, the A and B teams were carrying out drills, and the sound of the whistle was constant, but Tobio did his best to ignore it. One of the year tens tossed a ball in his direction, and Tobio lined up to serve. He held the ball in front of his face, then he tossed it into the air and jumped. 

"Out!" shouted Nima, sidestepping the ball. It bounced a foot beyond the end line, and Tobio scowled. 

"Good call," Josh said, slapping the libero on the shoulder. 

Tobio gritted his teeth. "Focus up," he snapped, accepting another ball from Lucas. The command was intended as much for himself as for the others, and he took a deep breath before serving a second time. This time, he aimed left, and the ball bounced off the wing spiker's arm and out of bounds. 

"Service ace!" Lucas yelled, apparently forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be afraid of Tobio. "One more!" 

Tobio didn't hit the next serve with as much force, and this time Nima picked it up, his face intense and focused as he dove for it. He was on his feet again in time to receive their return spike, and Tobio watched him with grudging approval. 

The rest of practice continued much the same. Tobio's team drew ahead by a few points, but this only seemed to spur the other team, who grew louder and moved more energetically in response to losing. After the halfway break, Tobio switched up the teams, which caused less argument than the first time, and they started another match. Again, Tobio's team drew ahead, and while the others fought hard, it became clear that the original division had suited them better. 

Tobio barely noticed practice drawing to a close. He hadn't looked at the clock once, and it wasn't until Mister Urquhart blew his whistle and shouted in a deafening voice for them to begin clearing up that Tobio even realised how late it was. 

He looked around at the year tens, a couple of whom were watching him expectantly, and gave a stiff nod, before turning away to start dismantling the net. The older boys were all ignoring him, and while Tobio was grateful for the reprieve, he felt stifled and restless. He wanted to practice longer, until his muscles ached, until he felt that he'd had a decent workout, that he'd taken a real step toward improving, instead of wasting his time curbing his serve for the weak receivers. 

"Kageyama!" Mister Urquhart shouted as he stomped toward the changing rooms. 

Tobio's shoulders jumped up to his ears. He didn't want this, not in front of everyone. 

But Mister Urquhart only clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Well played today." 

_Well played,_ Tobio thought, frowning. What did that mean? He didn't feel he'd played well at all. It puzzled him as he went to the changing room and collected his things, but by the time he'd started for home, there were other things on his mind. Namely the fact that by the time he got back, his parents would be back from the airport. With Hinata. Tobio grimaced, and began to walk a little slower. 

 

—

 

Tobio had barely stepped inside before he heard laughter, and then his mother's voice called out to him. Scowling, Tobio dropped his bag and looked down to find that there was a pair of trainers in the place where his own usually sat. They seemed very small. Tobio pushed them aside with his foot, and put his own shoes down in their usual place, before stalking through to the kitchen to face his doom.

"Tobio," said his mother, beaming at him from her seat at the table. She gestured to a small boy, who leapt up from the table to face Tobio. "This is Hinata—" 

“Hello!” Hinata said—almost shouted, in fact—and Tobio just blinked back at him. “I'm Hinata Shouyou!” He grinned and pointed at Tobio. “You are Kageyama Tobio, yes?”

Tobio stared at him. Whatever he'd pictured, Hinata was far from it. He had bright orange hair for a start, which seemed impossible. Tobio was convinced that all Japanese people were short with black hair, like his mother. Hinata was definitely short, at least. 

Hinata's arm wavered and he scrunched up his nose before saying something that Tobio didn't understand. ”¡sǝɯᴉʇ ʎuɐɯ os ǝɔᴉʇɔɐɹd ǝɯ ǝpɐɯ ᴉɥɔɐ⅄ puɐ 'ɥɥ∀ ¿ƃuoɹʍ ʇᴉ ʇǝƃ I pᴉp 'dɐɹƆ“

Tobio’s mum laughed softly, standing up, and put her hands on Hinata's shoulders. ”'ǝldoǝd ʍǝu punoɹɐ ʎɥs sᴉ oᴉqo┴“ she said, and Hinata laughed. 

Tobio scowled at her, having recognised his name, but not the rest. He was starting to wish he'd put a little more effort towards learning some Japanese. It hadn't seemed important until he realised his mum and Hinata were gonna use it to gossip about him. 

,,¡ǝuo ʎɹɐɔs ǝɥʇ s,ǝH“ Hinata shouted. ”¿ʎɹɐɔs ʇou ɯ,I ɯᴉɥ llǝʇ I op ʍoH ¿ǝɯ ʇɐ ǝɔɐɟ ʇɐɥʇ ƃuᴉʞɐɯ ǝɥ sᴉ ʎɥM,,

“Say ‘Don't be afraid of me’,” his mother said in a low voice, speaking slowly, before flashing Tobio a grin. 

“Kageyama-kun, don't be afraid of me!” Hinata said in his funny accent, flashing him the world's biggest grin. 

“Why do you keep calling me by my surname?” Tobio groused, shuffling on the spot. “It's weird, like being at school.”

“In Japan, you introduce with your family name,” his mum said, standing up straight and giving him a weary look. “You don't listen when I explain to you.” 

Tobio just shrugged, though he did feel a little guilty. It was a long time since they had visited his mother's family in Japan, and all he remembered from those long ago visits was people feeding him a lot of snacks and calling him Tobio-chan. His mum still broke that one out sometimes when she wanted to embarrass him. 

When he looked back at Hinata, the kid was still watching him with a wide, eager expression on his face. 

“Uh,” he began, and his mum nodded encouragingly. ”'ɐɯɐʎǝƃɐʞ oᴉqo┴ ɯ,I“ he said, because he could remember that much at least. Behind Hinata's back, his mum made a rolling motion with her fingers and he winced. “I mean...Kageyama Tobio. Sorry. How do I say sorry?”

”¡ʎɹɹoS“ Hinata yelled, looking thrilled to be able to help. 

Tobio nodded. “Uh...ʎɹɹos."

“It's okay, it's okay! Don't mind, Kageyama-kun!” Hinata said, reaching up and slapping his shoulder a few times, grinning fit to burst. “We help each other speak better.”

Tobio didn't want to speak Japanese any better than he already did, which was to say barely at all, and he didn't particularly care if Hinata's English improved either. He cast a forlorn look in his mum's direction, but she just nodded approvingly and patted Hinata on the shoulder again. 

“Are you hungry, Hinata-kun?” she asked. Hinata turned to her, his expression wrinkling again. She grinned and then mimed putting something in her mouth. “Do you want to eat?”

Hinata nodded emphatically. "Yes please!"

"Alright then," she said slowly. "Tobio-chan, I'm going to make lunch, go show Hinata-kun where his room is."

Tobio grimaced at her, and she replied by drawing a finger across her throat. "Fine," Tobio muttered. "This way."

He pounded up the stairs, pausing halfway when he realised that Hinata wasn't following. Looking back, he realised that Hinata was struggling up the bottom step with an enormous suitcase. He managed to lift it to the second step before stopping. 

Huffing in annoyance, Tobio stomped back down the stairs and grabbed the suitcase from Hinata. "Come on," he said, hauling it up the stairs. 

,,'ʇᴉ op uɐɔ I,, Hinata said in a mulish voice.

Tobio ignored him, hefting the heavy suitcase up the rest of the stairs and into the spare room. 

"Bedroom!" Hinata shouted, pausing in the doorway to Tobio's bedroom. He stared into it for a few moments, wrinkling his nose. ,,¿sǝɥʇolɔ ɹnoʎ llɐ dǝǝʞ noʎ op ǝɹǝɥM ˙ʎpᴉʇ os s,ʇI,,

"That's my room," Tobio snapped, hefting the suitcase into the spare room and slamming it down on the floor. He raised his arm and pointed at the bed. "This is your room."

Hinata blinked at him.

"Don't you speak _any_ English?"

"This...my...bedroom," Hinata attempted.

Tobio rolled his eyes. "Yeah. This your bedroom."

,,'ǝɔɐɟ ʎɹɐɔs ʇɐɥʇ ƃuᴉʞɐɯ dǝǝʞ ǝɥ sǝop ʎɥʍ 'ɥƃ∩,, Hinata muttered, seemingly to himself. Then, haltingly. "Thank you, Kageyama-kun!"

"Yeah," Tobio muttered. "Whatever. Just stay out of my room."

Hinata blinked at him, looking from Tobio to his bedroom door, then back again. He raised his arm and pointed at the door. "Your...room?"

Tobio nodded. He pointed at it as well, then pointed at Hinata, and drew his finger across his throat, mimicking the motion his mother had made downstairs. Hinata went pale, eyes widening. _Good_ , Tobio thought, turning his back and walking into his own room. _That should keep him out._

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/177955678257/made-up-lovesong-chapter-1-notallballs) | [RT on twitter]()


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